


Circles

by elisetales



Series: Promises [4]
Category: Starfighter (Comic)
Genre: Angst, Domestic Violence, Kittens, Koshka - Freeform, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-26
Updated: 2013-01-26
Packaged: 2017-11-26 23:21:01
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,364
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/655499
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/elisetales/pseuds/elisetales
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>My own little continuation of <i>Thirty Dollars a Week.</i> Cain being a jerkface, cute kittens, and kisses and cuddles.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Circles

**Author's Note:**

  * For [asocialconstruct](https://archiveofourown.org/users/asocialconstruct/gifts).
  * Inspired by [Thirty Dollars a Week](https://archiveofourown.org/works/641714) by [asocialconstruct](https://archiveofourown.org/users/asocialconstruct/pseuds/asocialconstruct). 



Cain put his fist through the drywall as soon as Abel had disappeared into the night, smeared the blood from his split knuckles all over the place as he tore his way through the kitchen and smashed everything he could get his hands on; throwing the pot of soup Abel had been making against the wall, standing there hunched over and shaking as he watched it drip down the cracked plaster.

He didn't stop trashing the place until the old bitch across the hall shouted out at him to quit it or she'd call the cops on him again. Probably had 'em on fucking speed-dial because she knew Cain was scum, convinced he was putting his hands all over Abel when he'd only done it once. Only given Abel something to really cry about _once_ and no one had ever let him forget about it. Like a good smack in the mouth had ever fucking killed anybody.

He stayed up all night drinking after that, tearing his and Abel's room apart while the cat sat on top of the dresser and watched with big eyes, Cain getting more paranoid the more he drank, more and more convinced that somewhere he was going to find the evidence of Abel fucking around on him. Evidence he was plotting with Stacey to leave him, just waiting for Cain to turn his back so they could twist the knife in.

He ended up finding fuck all--an old bill with Abel's parents' and sister's numbers scrawled on the back; all of Abel's old uniforms folded neatly in a box beneath the bed--not that that meant much: Abel had always been too good at hiding things, too good at lying to Cain's face; pretending he didn't regret every second they'd been together, or that each time he'd told Cain he loved him it wasn't a big fucking lie.

But Cain knew better. Everything Abel didn't want him to know was written all over his face; he couldn't hide that much.

The house was silent, too silent, as Cain went back out to clean up his mess, getting down on his hands and knees to pick the broken glass up off the floor bit by bit, just in case Abel came back and stepped on it in the dark. He scrubbed the soup off the hallway wall, wiped his own blood from the benches, thinking as he rinsed the cloth beneath the faucet, watched the water turn red and swirl down the drain, how fucking worthless that blood was. Didn't matter if they bled him dry, it still wasn't enough to keep Abel from leaving him over and over.

* * *

He waited twenty-four hours before he cracked and called Stacey, didn't want to seem too eager to have Abel back when it wouldn't change a damn thing between them, when Abel still wouldn't want to fuck without a condom--like they hadn't been together over a year, when as far as Cain was concerned neither of them was fucking anyone else.

"Hello?" a man answered, and Cain held the phone away from his ear for a second or two, grinding his jaw and trying to calm himself enough to speak. Stacey's boyfriend. The creepy little prick who always looked at Abel too long, tried too hard to be friends, probably wanted in Abel's fucking pants too and was just waiting for the right moment to try it.

Cain took a deep breath and pressed the phone back to his ear again. "Abel there?" he grunted. He heard the man's shallow little breaths, always so nervous when he was talking to Cain, before he managed, "Ah, I... I'll just put Stacey on." Cain scowled and waited.

"Cain? Abel's not here, but seriously, what the fuck have you done to him this time? I swear to god, if you've hurt him..."

Cain swallowed every curse he wanted to spit at her and forced out, "I know he's there. Just put him on; I don't want to play your fucking games."

"I told you," Stacey said, voice tight and disproving, "he's _really_ not here. Cain, what have you--"

"Well where the fuck is he then?" Cain demanded before she could finish, heart starting to hammer. He knew Stacey well enough by now to know when she was covering for Abel, and by the sound of it she wasn't. Not this time.

"I don't know," Stacey snapped. She blew out a breath and asked, "Have you tried his phone?"

"It's switched off." He'd tried dialing Abel the night before as he'd lain awake in bed, drunk and feeling guilty, and again that morning, though he wasn't about to admit that much to Stacey.

"Have you called his parents?"

Cain hung up the phone at that, got to his feet and scrubbed his hands over his face, pacing their dingy little apartment a few times and fighting down the rising panic. If Abel wasn't with Stacey then it was different this time. Meant he was done with Cain for good, wanted to be somewhere he knew Cain wouldn't ever find him.

_Have you called his parents?_

Cain thought back to the crumpled bill he'd found at the bottom of one of Abel's drawers and felt sick. No way he could call Abel's parents now. No way he could admit to them he'd fucked up, that he was just as bad as they'd always said, that he couldn't provide for their son even if it meant bleeding out just to help pay the bills.

No way he could tell them the state their son was living in. That Cain had hit him and Abel had stayed.

A few hours later, when Cain was down in the basement doing the stack of dirty laundry he'd promised Abel he'd start on weeks ago, his phone buzzed and his heart skipped a beat. Wiping his hands of the slimy yellow laundry detergent, he pulled his phone from his pocket and accessed his messages, one new sent from an unknown number:

_Cain, it's Ethan. I'm alright, I just need some time to think. I'll call you soon._

Cain let out a low hiss and leaned back against the machine, hunched over and staring down at the bright screen like he expected the message on it to change. _Ethan_ , that name Cain never used, and what the fuck did 'soon' mean? Tonight? Next month?

Cain clenched his jaw and called the unfamiliar number back. It rang twice before the line went dead.

* * *

He spent the next week in a blind panic, wondering where the fuck Abel was and if he was safe, what he was doing for money since he hadn't turned up for work in days; whether he was selling his ass on the street just to make ends meet or if he'd finally found someone who could give him all the things Cain couldn't.

Not knowing where he was or how to get to him, not knowing if he was safe--dead or fucking alive--was worse than anything Abel had ever put him through. If he'd wanted to get Cain back for every time he'd hurt him, yelled at him, hit him, then he'd sure as fuck done it right this time.

The only person Cain could think of to fall back on was Deimos, but even Deimos wouldn't answer his calls anymore. Cain racked his brains trying to think back to what he'd done to screw that up too before he remembered he'd nearly broken the little shit's nose when he'd dared turn up to a mutual friend's flaunting his new boyfriend--rubbing up on him like a bitch in heat, kissing him, right there in front of Cain's face.

Cain wished now he'd kept his mouth shut and his fist to himself, but he'd been out of his mind then, so drunk Abel had had to drive him home, and besides--Deimos didn't hold grudges, never had when it came to Cain. Cain surmised it was the new boyfriend jerking Deimos' chain behind the scenes, demanding Deimos cut all ties with Cain unless he wanted to get dumped, because it wasn't like Deimos to pull this shit.

Getting passed over for the new boyfriend, though. Too fucking typical, Cain thought, even if there was no part of him left that was surprised he'd ended up alone, with no one but a fat fucking cat to keep him company. Whenever they'd fought it had been the one thing Abel had thrown at him--warning him that unless he changed he'd just end up a bitter, lonely old man, with nothing and no one. Cain guessed Abel had been right on that one--except for the cat part.

Least Cain still had a cat though, even if she was fucking crazy too: refusing to let Cain near her now, hiding under the bed and scratching all the furniture to shit, turning her nose up at whatever food Cain left out for her and refusing to drink water or milk.

The food was crap--whatever leftovers Cain could manage to scrape together each night--but it was better than whatever she'd been eating on the street before Abel had picked her up and taken her home. Ungrateful little bitch would still be out there in that alley if it hadn't been for Abel and his big bleeding heart. Cain had never liked cats, only reason he'd ever put up with her was for Abel; because Abel had wanted it.

He called Abel's phone again that night as soon he got in from work, collapsed on the sagging couch with his feet up on the coffee table, sore and stiff and missing Abel's softness and smell, Koshka nowhere in sight. He tried calling again when Abel didn't pick up the first time--three, four, five more times--but with no luck, Abel's phone still off or else he just had Cain's number blocked.

He tossed the phone onto the coffee table when Koshka trotted out into the living room, set his beer aside and patted his knee, tried to coax her on over to him. He knew how pathetic his life had become when the only thing that could stand to touch him was a stupid fucking cat, but he needed something to fill the emptiness Abel had left behind, and mindlessly petting Koshka was better than staring at the fucking ceiling all night and going over every little thing he'd ever done wrong.

But Koshka wasn't having it either, just ignored him and dragged herself along the carpet on her back, chittering and mewling and scratching at the coffee table legs. "Tch," Cain said, stomping the ground near her in the hope she'd piss off back to where she'd come from--snuggling up on Abel's side of the bed no doubt and rubbing up against his pillow, missing him just as much as Cain did.

Eventually he switched the television on and tried to watch the game instead, Koshka distracting him even from that when she wouldn't stop rolling around, scratching the carpet and fucking crying.

"Piss off," Cain growled at her, staring her dead in her yellow eyes, flicking the ash of his cigarette into the overflowing tray. She ignored him and rolled over again, Cain starting to panic when he noticed the discharge along her hind-legs. "Fuck," he breathed.

He scrabbled for his phone, dropped it twice in his sweaty hands and punched in Abel's number, swearing under his breath and praying for an answer. When it went straight to message bank for the third time he hissed and typed out a message instead:

_answer ur fone. cats either dying or about to pop kittens. dont no wat 2 do. help._

He hung his head then, sure his efforts were for nothing, when his phone rang a couple minutes later and his heart gave a start. He swallowed hard as he answered it. "Abel?"

"What do you mean she's dying or having kittens?" Abel sounded shrill, as panicked as Cain felt. "Cain? Cain, what's happening? Is she okay?"

Cain closed his eyes and let out a low breath, relieved at the sound of Abel's voice and knowing he was safe. Didn't care either that Abel would answer his phone for a cat before he'd answer for him, as long as Cain got to hear his voice again.

"Cain?"

"Yeah. Yeah, I'm here." Cain cleared his throat. "And I meant exactly what I said." He quickly filled Abel in on everything he'd observed--Koshka not eating, scratching everything to shit, hiding under the bed and behind the TV unit.

Abel sighed. "She's nesting."

"What?" Cain wrinkled his nose and eyed the cat with suspicion.

"It sounds like she's getting ready to give birth. We had a few cats growing up," Abel explained in a mumble. "That's what they used to do."

"Huh. Well you never fucking told me she was pregnant, did you? You said she was just fat," Cain accused, wanting to start a fight with Abel even now, wanting to yell at him and make him pay for every fucking night Cain had lost sleep over him, worrying about where he was.

"Well how was I supposed to know?" Abel snapped. "Not like we could afford to take her to the vet, and I never felt anything when I was rubbing her belly. Did you?"

Cain kept his mouth shut at that, knew if he said any of the things he was thinking Abel would just hang up on him and he'd blow the only chance he was going to get to talk to him again.

"Look, I need you here," Cain grumbled after a long pause. "I can't do this without you." _Any of it, not just the fucking cat,_  went unsaid.

Abel was silent a long while before he sighed and muttered, "Give me fifteen minutes."

Half an hour later and Abel was there on the sidewalk outside the old cinema downtown, just where he'd said he'd be. Cain leaned over to unlock the passenger side door, tried to hide how his hands were shaking when he drew back and Abel got in and put his seat-belt on, the sweet and familiar smell of him overwhelming in the tiny space. It was a struggle to keep his hands to himself but Cain did it, didn't know where they stood now or just how much Abel was willing to forgive.

"Hi," Abel tentatively offered, staring a hole in the side of Cain's face as Cain pulled away from the curb.

"Hi," Cain stiffly returned, didn't miss the way Abel shrank back into his seat at Cain's cold tone, Cain feeling guilty the whole ride back to the apartment when neither of them said a word to each other, just listened to the crackling radio.

* * *

Cain had to wait until they got up to the apartment to get a good look at him, the overhead light not working in the car and the starless night too dark to see as they trudged across the overcrowded carpark. He stared and tried not to make it too obvious when Abel went straight for the living room once they were inside, calling out to Koshka, Cain following closely behind him.

"Where is he?" Abel asked breathlessly, turning to Cain. He was still too fucking skinny but pink-cheeked at least, still too beautiful for his own good. Clothes clean if a little small on him. Didn't look like he'd been living rough.

"Fucked if I know," Cain answered with a shrug, looking behind the old bookcase and checking round the side of the couch.

Abel frowned and bit his thumb. "Koshka?"

They both heard the rustling from behind the TV unit at the same time.

Abel looked back at Cain with wide eyes and they both dashed for it, Abel hushing him and sticking his head behind the back of the unit, standing back a few seconds later with a dazed look on his face.

"What?" Cain pressed. "What is it?"

Abel grinned and put a hand over his mouth. "She's had them."

"What?" Cain gently nudged Abel out of the way and took a look for himself, squinting as his eyes adjusted to the light. Koshka blinked owlishly up at him in the darkness, two tiny little bundles of fur pressed up against her belly. Her mouth was bloody and she meowed when she saw Cain.

"Well fuck," Cain said, looking behind him at Abel. He fought back a smile.

"Quick, help me pull this out a little," Abel said then, blushing and quickly averting his eyes from Cain's. "We'll need some space to get to her if anything's gone wrong, and we need to check on the kittens too.

Cain grunted as he heaved the unit away from the wall, Abel laying a light hand on his shoulder and saying, "Gentle. Careful not to spook her."

Abel knelt down on the carpet when Cain had made enough space, rolling up his sleeves and talking to the cat in gentle tones. Cain knelt behind him while Abel checked on the kittens and rubbed Koshka's head, the heavy feeling in his gut starting to return now that the elation of laying eyes on Abel again had worn off. Abel was only going to leave the second he'd discerned the kittens were healthy, and Cain still didn't know where to reach him; Abel had been careful not to have Cain pick him up from wherever he'd been staying. Too smart for his own good.

"They're both a good size," Abel whispered after a while, tucking a lock of white-blond hair behind his ear and sitting back on his legs. "And they're so beautiful, Cain. One grey and one ginger. Come look."

Cain leaned over Abel's shoulder to see, so close he felt the warmth of Abel's back against his chest. "You got a name for 'em yet, or what?" he said, close to Abel's ear.

Abel shivered and replied, "Don't _you_ want to name them?"

"I named their mother," Cain murmured. "Your turn." He couldn't resist curling a hand round Abel's hip, leaning forward and pressing a kiss to the soft skin at the back of his neck.

"Cain," Abel breathed like he'd been waiting for this too, leaning back against him for a moment and covering his hand with his, gently squeezing his fingers before he seemed to think better of it and got to his feet, leaving Cain sitting there on the floor.

Cain got up and followed him out to the kitchen, refusing to be deterred, and trapped him up against the stove, resting his hands on the cupboards above Abel's head. "What do you want me to say?" he asked him, staring hard at the pink curve of Abel's downturned mouth, Abel staring down at the floor. "I'm sorry? I'm fucking sorry. There. Now come home."

"I can't."

"Why?" Cain demanded. Part of him wanted to shake the little bitch by the shoulders and demand to know if he'd already found someone else, but he didn't want to hear the answer to that. And if Abel had then it wouldn't fucking matter anyway. Cain would still want him, would still take him back no questions asked, if Abel just gave it another chance.

"Because you don't mean it," Abel whispered. His eyes were glassy now, threatening the fucking water-works already, just like he always did when he wanted to make Cain feel guilty. Cain had to force himself to keep looking at him.

"You always say you're sorry," Abel went on. "You always promise things'll change but they never do because you don't _want_ them to. You want to control everything, you want to keep lying to me, and I can't keep going on like this; neither of us can."

Cain swallowed back a bitter retort. It was true. All of it.

"Just tell me what you want from me," Cain said, biting back his pride. "Say it and I'll do it."

Abel's eyes fixed on a point over Cain's shoulder and didn't budge. Cain twisted round and followed the line of his gaze, stomach dropping when he caught sight of the dented box of condoms sitting on the kitchen counter. Wasn't sure why the hell he hadn't just thrown them in the trash when he'd had the chance--all they'd done the past couple of weeks was remind him what a prick he was, of all the reasons Abel had to hate him.

"Fine. You want me to use a fucking condom? I'll use a condom," Cain said through his teeth, turning back to Abel. "That what you want, baby?" He pressed closer and Abel flushed and turned his face away, blinking once and sniffling.

Cain stifled a growl when Abel didn't answer him. "You fucking fought me for it, and now that I'm rolling over and giving you what you want it's not enough for you?"

"I just..."

"What?" Cain said when Abel didn't finish his sentence. "You want me to go and get tested or something? Bring it back and show it to you? Pin it to the fucking fridge? Tell me." He couldn't ignore the sting it gave him to know Abel thought he was dirty, that he couldn't trust Cain enough to sleep with him without a fucking doctor's certificate. But if it was what it took to bring Abel back, he'd go and do it.

Cain knew it was obvious to anyone who was looking just who the bitch was. Who had who by the balls.

"Why can't you just trust me?" Cain added when Abel still wouldn't answer him.

Abel snapped his eyes back to Cain and glared. "Why can't _you_ trust _me_?"

Cain started to say _I do_ but choked on the lie. He put his hand on Abel's smooth cheek instead, rubbed a thumb along the hot skin and lifted Abel's chin, tried to force Abel to look at him. He fixed eyes on Abel's mouth and leaned down to kiss, Abel watching him the whole time like he didn't trust it was safe, eyes wide open and unblinking.

Cain was gentle with him and took his time, tried to put every damn thing he couldn't say into a kiss--how much Abel meant to him and how much he still cared; that he didn't want to be alone; that he'd never do the things Abel was silently accusing him of--fucking around, using drugs; that if he couldn't have Abel then he didn't want anyone else.

Abel knew him. Abel would understand.

He slid his tongue inside Abel's mouth and pulled him closer, arms tight around him and crushing Abel to his chest, fingers stroking Abel's bony back. His breath caught when Abel cupped his cheek with one cold hand, pushed fingers through Cain's hair and tore his mouth away with a little gasp, pressing his cheek to Cain's shoulder and breathing hard, shoulders shaking.

Cain held him there and stood still as a statue, careful not to shatter the moment and have Abel run out on him. It'd be a bitch trying to get hold of him again, to get him to pick up his phone and answer Cain's calls, to stand still long enough to listen to any more of Cain's bullshit.

Even if Cain already knew by now just where he could find him if he had to, had known the second he'd noticed the clothes Abel was wearing were just a little too small on him, just hadn't wanted to think about it. That it was Deimos, and probably his fucking boyfriend too, who'd been covering for Abel the entire time. That Deimos hadn't been answering his calls because he'd picked Abel over him.

"I'll get the test," he said into Abel's hair. "I'll use the fucking condoms."

Abel drew back to look at him, a pained expression on his face. "Cain--"

"It's late," Cain said, cutting him off. "You don't have to stay for good, but stay tonight."

Abel rolled his lip around between his teeth, brow furrowed, hands still on Cain's shoulders. Cain could tell he was considering it. He slid his hands up to Cain's face, pushed his hair back and held him there steady. "No fights?"

"Promise," Cain answered. He leaned forward to kiss and caught the corner of Abel's mouth instead, kissed it again and moved to his jaw, his cheeks, his temple. He let Abel wrap his arms around him and fall bonelessly against him, head tucked beneath Cain's chin, Cain wanting it too even when he'd always told Abel he hated all that cuddling shit.

"You want a beer?" Cain asked, just as Koshka streaked past with one of her kittens in her mouth, heading up the hallway, probably to their bedroom.

"Alright," Abel said, still sounding uncertain. He let Cain lead him over to the couch by the hand, let Cain drag him down onto his lap and pull him in close.

"You've been smoking in the house," Abel remarked as Cain picked up the remote and turned the volume on the TV down.

"You weren't here," Cain said, then grudgingly added, "I'll empty it tomorrow and air the place out."

Abel settled back against Cain's chest, sipped at his beer and softly observed, "You did the laundry, though."

Cain glanced over at the folded stack sitting on the armchair by the TV and replied, "Yeah, you asked me to."

They both watched as Koshka trotted out of the living room with the other kitten in her mouth.

"What the fuck is she doing?" Cain wondered aloud.

"Hiding the kittens, I think. She probably wants some privacy."

Cain snorted. "She's a cat, Abel; she doesn't need privacy. And not in our fucking bedroom."

Abel gave a little shrug and twisted round on Cain's lap. "She can have it for the night. Couch?"

Cain couldn't say no to him. Squished up on their shitty couch together sounded better than sleeping in their bed on his own again.

He nodded, said, "Yeah, alright," and let Abel settle back against him, blond head drooping back onto Cain's shoulder.

**Author's Note:**

> P.S. My headcanon says that Abel names the kittens Keeler and Encke.


End file.
